“I won, mi amor,” Cyra heard his throaty voice whispering in her ear. His grip turned a bit tight around her but without losing the essence of delicacy.
His warm breathing grazed against the exposed skin around her neck and shoulder, causing her to tightly clench her palms. The fact that she could see nothing around her and could just feel him, it was filling her with more dread, and this darkness was telling her how much her loneliness needed him to feel secured.
No, it was not her fault. It was the fault of this gloominess around her. She could never need a man like him.
“You lost,” his lips gently traced the rim of her ear, forcing Cyra to slowly close her eyes. She knew this was wrong but even a right had never felt this right to her the way this wrong was feeling right to her, at
